


Loving Longest

by Ellana17



Series: I walked with you once upon a dream [1]
Category: Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Regency, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-16
Updated: 2017-12-17
Packaged: 2018-12-16 03:35:11
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 13
Words: 14,391
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11820381
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ellana17/pseuds/Ellana17
Summary: “Myrcella, how wonderful,” Jaime greeted his niece. “And Miss Stark and Miss Arya, of course. I heard you were to spend the summer with us. How delightful.”He did not look delighted at all, Sansa noted. At least he was making an effort to be polite and greet them properly. That much could not be said about Cersei, or Arya for that matter.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I might have watched “Northanger Abbey” one too many time.  
> The title is a quote from Jane Austen’s “Persuasion”: “All the privilege I claim for my own sex, is that of loving longest, when existence or when hope is gone.”

**CHAPTER I**

 

When Myrcella had first invited her to spend the summer away in Bath, Sansa had been delighted. It had taken a while to convince her father – a man attached to his quiet life in the northern countryside – to let her go to the city for a few months. Her father was a very stubborn man who would not let his daughters out of his sight. Sansa had never even been outside of their village even though every girl of her age and condition ought to have travelled at least once in their life.

“Please, Father!” she had begged him. “Please let me go! You’ve known Mr Baratheon all your life, you know he wouldn’t let anything happen to me!” she had tried to reason with him. “Myrcella has asked _me_ to go with her to Bath. I can’t refuse! You can’t deny me that! Please Father. I never asked you for anything. Please, let me go!” she had exclaimed as tears ran down her cheeks.

Her father had stayed silent before finally giving a curt nod and Sansa had fallen into his arms.

When Myrcella had first invited her to spend the summer away in Bath, Sansa had not thought her sister would have to accompany her. Sansa had huffed and stomped her foot quite a lot but her father would not be deterred. He had been very clear about the fact that Arya was to accompany her to Bath or Sansa would not go at all. The girl had no choice but to accept the compromise.

Arya was an awful travel companion and Sansa knew it. Being trapped into a carriage with her was pure torture. Arya had not stopped fidgeting since their travel party had taken off. Sansa, Arya, Myrcella, Cersei Baratheon sat rather uncomfortably in one carriage as Robert Baratheon, their eldest son Joffrey and young Tommen Baratheon travelled in another one.

Sansa knew the reason behind Arya’s sour mood of course and the thought made her rather angry at her sister’s disregard of propriety. Her sister had been conversing frequently with one of their stable boys, a boy named Gendry. The only reason Sansa even remembered his name was that he took good care of Sansa’s mare. Nevertheless, the boy’s job was to take care of the horses, not befriend the youngest daughter of his employer. Arya had always loved the life they lived in their estate, Winterfell, as contrary to Sansa. The two sisters were very much different on that front. While Sansa enjoyed embroidery and dancing, while Arya spent much time outside, running in the forest with her massive dog, Nymeria.

When they finally reached Bath, Sansa was on edge. However, she guessed spending hours inside a carriage was part of the travel experience.

The house was located at the very heart of the city. Sansa gasped at the stairs in the hall, the red and gold curtains, the painting on the walls and the bouquets of flowers that had been carefully placed in the rooms by the servants.

“Dear sister,” a blond man she recognised as Jaime Lannister greeted them.

“You’re already here? Where is that gigantic wife of yours?” Cersei asked, looking bored already.

“A real pleasure to see you, as always,” Jaime answered calmly. “Brienne went to the kitchens, she wanted to discuss tonight’s dinner with the cook. We went hunting earlier today,” he informed them.

“How charming,” Cersei deadpanned. “Is Father here?”

“No, but Tyrion is,” Jaime told her, looking around the room for his brother. “He might have found your secret stash of wine already, I’m afraid,” he smirked. “Myrcella, how wonderful,” he greeted his niece. “And Miss Stark and Miss Arya, of course. I heard you were to spend the summer with us. How delightful.”

He did not look delighted at all, Sansa noted. At least he was making an effort to be polite and greet them properly. That much could not be said about Cersei, or Arya for that matter.

“What happened to your hand?” Arya asked suddenly.

“Arya!” Sansa scolded her.

Jaime Lannister raised his arm, and Sansa only then noticed that his hand had been amputated. “Hunting accident,” he stated. “You should have seen the beast,” he told Arya. “Or what remained of it.”

“As I recall, I had to kill it for you, my dear,” said a woman behind them. Sansa turned around as the tallest woman she had ever seen made her way into the room. She had blond hair and a deep blue dress that brought out her eyes. Unfortunately for her, her eyes were her only redeeming features.

“Miss Stark, Miss Arya Stark, may I present to you my wife, Mrs Brienne Lannister,” he introduced. “These are the two daughters of Ned Stark, an old friend of Robert’s,” he told his wife. “Speaking of which, where _is_ your dear husband, sister?”

Cersei huffed. “He had some urgent business with his lawyers,” she answered curtly.

Brienne made her way to Sansa. “It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance,” she greeted. “I heard so much about the both of you from Myrcella.”

Sansa could not help but smile at the woman. The blonde may not be a beauty but she seemed rather nice.

“Do you really go hunting?” Arya asked, her eyes shining for the first time since their departure.

“I do. My father taught me when I was still a young girl,” Brienne told her.

“You’re so lucky,” Arya said. “My father tells me proper ladies don’t hunt,” she explained, rolling her eyes - a gesture that was in no way ladylike, Sansa noted.

“Father is perfectly right,” Sansa informed her. Then she caught herself and smiled to Brienne. “I meant no offense, of course.”

“It’s alright,” Brienne answered. “I’ve always wondered what does a proper lady do all day anyway?” she asked, showing genuine interest.

Sansa then told her about her latest embroidery lesson and Brienne regaled them with a few stories of her best hunts until dinner was served. Arya had not stopped smiling.

Sansa sat between Arya and Myrcella, facing Joffrey. As Arya sat on Brienne’s other side, the woman was now telling her about the time Jaime had lost his hand (which apparently was the first time the spouses had ever met) while her husband looked immensely bored trapped in a conversation with Robert. Sansa smiled shyly every time she met Joffrey’s eyes. The young man looked even more handsome with every passing year. It had been Sansa’s secret wish to become Joffrey’s wife for many years now, and this trip was the perfect occasion for them to grow closer.

“Where is he?” Cersei huffed as dinner was served.

The door suddenly opened and Tywin Lannister appeared, followed by his youngest son, Tyrion Lannister. Sansa had seen them only once in her life. One year prior, Robert and Cersei had entertained a very large party of Lannisters and Baratheons and the girl had made the acquaintance of some members of the two families. The experience had been interesting to say the least. Sansa, who had never been one for drama, had been appalled to notice the tension existing inside the family. Robert’s brother, Stannis Baratheon and his wife had spent the day criticising each and every one of them without even bothering to be discreet about it; Tyrion and Cersei had not talked to one another once; and Robert had drunk a very large part of the wine. Only Renly had been charming. He had danced with Sansa for hours that day as Joffrey did not seem to notice her. It was her own fault anyway; she should have worn her golden gown that day instead of that grey old-fashioned gown her mother had made her wear.

Tywin Lannister sat at the end of the table.

“Father,” Jaime greeted. Tywin nodded curtly and soon all conversations resumed. Tyrion had neglected his glass of wine and was now laughing wholeheartedly with Brienne, and Myrcella and Sansa were having a nice conversation about the gown they would wear to the ball the next evening.

“Where did you bought this?” Tywin asked, impressed, gesturing to the meat in his plate.

“Brienne and I went hunting earlier today,” Jaime informed him.

“Good, good,” Tywin said. “You should come hunting with us next time,” he told his daughter‑in‑law.

“I would be delighted,” Brienne answered with a smile as Cersei glared at her with all her might.

“What meat is this?” Myrcella asked with interest.

“Stag,” Brienne answered and Tyrion chocked on his glass of wine. Sansa did not understand what could be so funny about the statement.

They all managed to get through dinner without any major incident, at which point the men retired in an adjacent room while all children were sent to bed.

Sansa found her suitcases waiting for her in her chambers. The room was even bigger than the one she had at Winterfell. She put all her clothes in the large wooden wardrobe and then changed into her nightgown. Sansa’s mind was racing and she found she could not sleep yet, too excited about the many plans she had made with Myrcella for the following day.


	2. Chapter 2

**CHAPTER II**

 

The following morning, Sansa was woken up as a housemaid opened the curtains in her room. She found a steaming cup of tea on her bedside table and thanked the woman who informed her that breakfast would be served promptly.

Sansa dressed for the day, taking special care of her hair and chose her best gown. She was in Bath after all. She was so excited at the prospect of buying a new gown for the ball and exploring the city that she rushed out of her room and ran all the way down the stairs. She almost ran into Joffrey’s uncle, Mr Tyrion Lannister.

“I’m so sorry,” she exclaimed as Tyrion regained his balance.

“There’s no need to apologise, Miss Stark,” he smiled, clearly amused. “I hope you like your room.”

“It’s perfect, thank you.”

“I think my niece is very excited at the prospect of your outing today,” he said as he opened the door for her.

“As I am,” she smiled at him and sat down next to Myrcella.

“We have so much to do today,” the girl greeted, waving a piece of toast around. The girl was impatient to show Sansa all the best boutiques in town. “We have to find the perfect gown for tonight, you course,” she informed her. “We’re in Bath now, we have to look the part.”

Sansa had no idea what Myrcella was talking about but guessed that she would find out soon enough.

The girls spend the better part of the day in town, looking for a suitable gown to wear. They were accompanied by Myrcella’s aunt, Brienne, as Cersei had no time to spear to accompany them. As they looked for gloves and other accessories to wear for their time in Bath, Sansa could not remember the last time she had such a good time.

That evening, Sansa and Myrcella spent hours getting ready for the event. One of the housemaids, named Ros, helped Sansa with her hairstyle, pinning all of Sansa’s long red hair into place and placing several pearls in a complex pattern around the bun. Sansa wrapped one arm around Myrcella carefully as to not crease their gowns; Sansa’s was soft pink while Myrcella’s was bright yellow, the perfect colour for her pale complexion.

The two girls finally made their way down the stairs. Arya had been forced into a vibrant purple gown with puffed sleeves. She looked furious, Sansa noted with a smirk. They took different carriages to the ball. Myrcella was laughing beside her and Sansa could not hide her own excitement when they finally made their way inside the ballroom. Her eyes roamed around the room; she did not know where to look, everything was so large, bright and beautiful. Sansa had never seen so many people in the same place at once. She was mesmerised by the bright colours of the women’s outfits and jewels.

“Margaery!” Myrcella suddenly exclaimed, waving at a brown-haired young woman. The girl took Sansa’s arm and led her through the crowd.

“Sansa, this is Miss Tyrell,” Myrcella introduced. “And this is Miss Stark,” she added.

“This is so good to meet you at last!” Margaery exclaimed. “I’ve heard so much about you from Myrcella.”

“I’m afraid there isn’t much to say,” Sansa told her with a blush.

“Nonsense,” Margaery countered, taking both Sansa’s and Myrcella’s arm. “I was dying to finally meet you. It felt as though you would never come to Bath.”

The three of them got some refreshment. Sansa finally caught sight of Arya, who was eating ice cream in company of young Tommen. Sansa only hopped the two of them would not do something incredibly stupid and inappropriate like throwing ice cream at people. Margaery and Myrcella started introducing Sansa to as many people as they could, leading her through the crowd. Sansa soon got the feeling that Miss Tyrell was loved by all in the city.

“And who is this?” Sansa asked, glancing at a young woman in a light grey dress. The woman stood upright and looked around the room without hiding her boredom until Tyrion Lannister made his way to her. That at least got a smile out of her, something Sansa had not thought possible a few seconds ago.

“This is Daenerys Targaryen,” Margaery said in a low voice. “She’s been a widow for a few years now, and a rich one at that.”

“She’s one of the richest people in this room”, Myrcella added.

“Indeed, and she has a lot of suitors as you can well imagine,” Margaery stated. “None of them has a chance, of course,” she added with a smirk. “She vowed never to remarry.”

“Is she still in love with her late husband?” Sansa asked. “This is so romantic!”

“Romantic, my girl?” a woman said behind her. “This is pure genius, you mean.”

“Grandma!” Margaery exclaimed with an amused smile.

“It is the truth,” the woman went on. “The girl’s young, she’s rich, she doesn't have children, why would she risk losing her freedom? She doesn’t need to remarry. Every man here would be ready to fall on their knees before her, that much is true. However, they are all drooling too much to do anything at all,” she concluded.

“Grandma!” Margaery giggled. The young woman turned to Sansa. “Let me introduce my grandmother, Mrs Olenna Tyrell. As you can see, she knows everybody here,” she added with a chuckle.

Sansa spent the evening with Myrcella and the Tyrells, learning all about the latest gossips in Bath. The excitement of the evening was still so strong when she returned to her chambers that she wrote it all down in her journal, like any seventeen-year-old girl should.


	3. Chapter 3

**CHAPTER III**

 

Sansa woke up early the next morning. She put on a pale blue dress and placed a matching ribbon in her hair before heading to the library before breakfast. Surely the Baratheons had a well-furnished library in their summer house. Sansa went down the stairs, roamed the long corridors, and finally stumbled upon a closed wooden door. Despite a large bookcase near the widow, the room had nothing to do with a library, Sansa realised as she opened the door.

“Miss Stark,” Mr Robert Baratheon greeted in surprise. He was sitting at a desk in the middle of the room, conversing with a man Sansa did not know. She had obviously interrupted them.

“Pardon me,” she said, her hand still on the handle. “I was looking for the library and-”

“The library,” said the second man as he turned around. The man was rather handsome in spite of his grey hair. He turned his piercing blue eyes to Sansa and they seemed to be boring directly into her soul. She shuddered. “In search of a novel, I presume. Every girl in town seems to be reading these days,” he noted as Robert roared with laughter.

Sansa frowned. “Miss Stark, this is Mr Petyr Baelish,” Robert seemed to recall his good manners at last. “Baelish, you remember Ned’s eldest daughter, of course.”

“Of course,” the man said, standing up. He walked to Sansa and smiled. “You look just like your mother,” he noted. “It is a pleasure to see you again.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t recall-”

“You were still a very young girl the last time I saw you. I am a very good friend of your mother’s.”

“Of course,” Sansa forced a smile. “Well, it is a pleasure to see you again, Mr Baelish.” She turned to Robert. “I’m sorry for interrupting,” she said.

“The library is down the corridor,” Mr Baelish informed her.

“Thank you, Sir,” Sansa said before leaving the room.

Sansa found the door of the library open. She let her hand run along the shelves as she walked. She had been right to think that the Baratheons had a rather large collection of books. She was looking for the novel Myrcella had suggested when Sansa nearly tripped on Mr Tyrion Lannister’s legs. She caught one of the shelves to prevent the fall and for a short moment the girl feared the whole bookcase would fall over.

“Miss Stark,” Tyrion exclaimed, getting up from the floor he was sitting on. “My apologies.”

“It’s nothing, really,” Sansa said as she smoothed out the front of her dress. “I hadn’t seen you, Sir.”

“Yes, I can see that,” he smiled. “I often come here when my dear sister- well, I often come here. Are you looking for a book, Miss?”

“I am, Sir,” she answered shyly.

“Yes, yes, why else would you find yourself here?” he underlined. “Can I be of assistance?”

“Myrcella suggested that I read _The Romance of the Forest_ but I can’t find it anywhere,” she told him.

“Ah, Mrs Radcliffe,” he nodded. “I’m not sure Robert has this kind of books here. I have to say that I never could find a good novel in this library, and god knows I tried.”

“You read novels?” Sansa exclaimed, surprised.

“Oh yes, I have a particular fondness for Mrs Radcliffe’s style of writing. I’m afraid you won’t find anything other than law texts in here,” he told her as they walked past some very large volumes. “If you’re interested in poetry, I could lend you this one,” he told her, holding up the book he had been reading. “Walter Scott truly has a way with words, I think you’ll like it. It is full of those knights in shining armours girls seem to be so fond of.”

“I can’t-” Sansa rushed to say.

“Of course you can,” Tyrion said. “Consider it an apology for my brother-in-law’s poor taste in literature.” Sansa smiled as he handed her the book.

“Thank you.”

“Now, we should hurry if we don’t want to miss breakfast,” he told her and led her out of the room. They made their way downstairs where they found Myrcella, Tommen, Arya and Cersei. Sansa sat down beside Myrcella, the book Tyrion lent her still in her hands.

“Where were you?” Cersei accused as soon as she saw her brother. “I hope you weren’t bothering Sansa with your stories.”

Tyrion seemed to take no offense at the gibe. “We were simply trying to find an interesting book in that poor excuse of a library you have here,” he answered with a smile. Cersei glared.

“What do you want to do today?” Myrcella asked Sansa eagerly. “I thought we could take a walk, there’s a few sights I wanted to show the both of you,” she said and turned to Arya. “I already asked Aunt Brienne, she said some exercise would do her good.”

“She seems a little too fond of exercising,” Cersei mumbled.

“That would be amazing,” Sansa answered. “Will your brother join us?” she asked.

“Joffrey has other plans for the day, little dove,” Cersei told her with a sweet smile as Sansa tried to hide her disappointment.

Despite her disappointment at losing a chance to spend time with Joffrey, Sansa decided to not let it spoil her day. Myrcella had a vast knowledge of the city, where she had been spending the whole summer for years now, and the girl was clearly impatient to show Sansa and her sister around. Her joyfulness must have been contagious because even Arya was presently conversing animatedly with Brienne. Arya had taken quite an interest in Joffrey’s aunt by marriage and the older woman seemed to genuinely enjoy the company of the girl.

“Tell me more about Margaery Tyrell,” Sansa told Myrcella as they walked.

“What do you want to know?” her friend asked her.

 _Everything_. Sansa was nothing less than fascinated by the ways of Bath.

“Where is her family from? Does she have brothers and sisters? Does she have an intended? Her grandmother seems like an interesting woman.”

Myrcella downright snorted. “That’s putting it mildly,” she said, holding down the brand new hat she was wearing against the wind. “Mrs Tyrell is one of the most influential persons in Bath,” Myrcella told her. “Her husband died a few years ago and now her son runs the family’s affairs. Mr Mace Tyrell’s eldest son, Willas, suffers from bad health. That prevents him from travelling much, you see. He rarely ventures outside of their domain. The second son, Garlan, married a few years ago and the third son, Loras, died last year. I heard it was very sudden, nobody really knows what happened but I was really saddened to hear it. Loras was a very good dancer and so charming! Every girl wanted to marry him. Margaery is their only daughter and she has a very nice dowry of her own, which makes her a very good party as you can well imagine.”

“How come she’s not already married then?” Sansa asked with interest.

Myrcella’s smile dropped suddenly. “She was engaged to Renly Baratheon, my father’s youngest brother.”

“I’m so sorry,” Sansa told her. “I didn’t know.”

“They didn’t have time to make anything official.”

“Renly was a good man,” Brienne said suddenly.

“Did you know him well?” Sansa asked, curious at this sudden development.

“He was a dear friend,” Brienne explained.

“I only hope Margaery won’t marry some old goat,” Myrcella told them. “Like Littlefinger. That would be awful.”

“Who’s Littlefinger?” Sansa asked.

“That’s Petyr Baelish’s nickname but Father doesn’t like it when we call him that.”

“I met him earlier,” Sansa informed her. “He didn’t look that old.”

“Well, he is, and he’s so boring, always going on and on about accounts and ships and businesses,” Myrcella explained.

“I thought he was a lawyer.”

“He has many interests.”

“I don’t like Littlefinger,” Arya cut in and Sansa rolled her eyes at her sister.

“How would you even know? You don’t know him.”

“I’ve seen enough. There’s just something in his eyes,” Arya said quietly.

“He’s not my favourite person either,” Brienne noted.

“Why is that?” Sansa enquires.

“Well, Jaime bought Littlefinger’s carriage a few years back and then realised that it was faulty,” Brienne informed them. “And the man won’t reimburse us.”

“That’s awful,” Sansa exclaimed.

“As I said,” Myrcella cut in. “He’s a boring old man.”

After dinner that night, Sansa finally saw an opportunity to sit beside Joffrey on the large sofa as the family conversed quietly. Myrcella was trying to interest Arya in the fine art of embroidery; Sansa’s younger sister seemed rather bored but Tommen on the other hand seemed fascinated by his sister’s explanations. Robert was sleeping on the chair, a glass of wine in his hands. Brienne, Jaime and his brother were conversing rather animatedly while Cersei glared at them all from across her own glass of wine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Spoiler alert: Neither Loras nor Renly are actually dead in this.


	4. Chapter 4

**CHAPTER IV**

 

A few days later, Sansa stepped out of the carriage carefully as to not ripple her newest pink dress. She rearranged the shawl on her shoulders and waited for Myrcella before going into the house. The Reeds had invited them to a small gathering and Sansa was looking forward to the evening. The two girls made their way to the door where a couple, who Sansa assumed to be Mr and Mrs Reed, where greeting their guests. Sansa smiled as Cersei reluctantly introduced her to their hosts before they entered the house. Sansa had just enough time to thank the servant who took her shawl before Myrcella linked their arms again and led her to the drawing room in order to introduce her to Meera Reed and her brother Jojen.

“Margaery!” Myrcella called with a wave of the hand when Margaery Tyrell entered the room with her grandmother. The young woman smiled as she joined them.

“Margaery,” Meera Reed said. “I’m so glad you’re here, I’ve been dying to show you the brand-new pianoforte my father brought back from his trip! I know you’ll enjoy it more than I do!” she added with a sweet smile. Meera turned to Sansa. “Margaery is very talented, I’ve never seen anyone play the piano so well.”

Sansa nodded and tried to supress a sudden bout of jealousy. “She’s greatly exaggerating my talents,” Margaery exclaimed with a peal of laughter that Sansa could only call melodious. “Don’t; otherwise Sansa will be disappointed when I actually start playing.”

“Nonsense,” Meera countered. “She’ll be delighted, I’m sure. We’ll all be, as always.”

Meera’s smile disappeared as soon as Joffrey made his way to them. “Miss Reed,” he greeted and kissed her hand. “You seem to grow more beautiful every passing year,” he said with a smile. Sansa barely contained a sigh. Oh, how she wished Joffrey would ever look at her in such a way. “Miss Tyrell,” he added.

“Mr Baratheon,” Margaery greeted. Their gaze locked for a second and once again Sansa felt the unusual pull of jealousy.

“Excuse me,” she said.

Arya and Tommen were nowhere to be seen, as expected. Robert and Cersei were conversing with Petyr Baelish. Cersei seemed bored out of her mind while Robert laughed loudly. Sansa took a closer look at Petyr Baelish and froze as the feeling of unease she had felt upon their first meeting returned. Sansa was reluctant to admit that Arya had been right after all; there really was something about his eyes. The young girl finally found Brienne conversing quietly with her husband and brother-in-law on the other side of the room.

“Sansa!” the blonde exclaimed when Sansa joined them. “I have not yet had the occasion to tell you how beautiful you look tonight,” she gushed.

Sansa blushed as both men nodded. “Thank you, you do too,” she told Brienne.

The woman laughed. “I really don’t,” she stated. “But it’s nice of you to say that.”

Sansa turned to Tyrion. “Mister Lannister,” she said but stopped as soon as she caught sight of the man’s grimace.

“Please, Mister Lannister is my father; Tyrion will do,” he told her amiably.

“Tyrion,” she started over. “I wanted to thank you again for the book you lent me, it is just as good as you said it would,” she said.

“I’m glad to hear it. I had a feeling you might enjoy it.”

His brother rolled his eyes. “You and your books,” he said with an easy smile. “You’ll just bore the poor girl out of her mind.”

Brienne slapped his arm lightly as Tyrion scowled at his brother.

“That’s actually quite the opposite,” Sansa told him. She gulped as Jaime Lannister glanced down at her.

“The poor girl was looking for a novel in Robert’s library,” Tyrion stated simply, as though this was a sufficient explanation in and of itself. Judging by Jaime’s burst of laughter, it probably was.

“I fear our dear brother-in-law doesn’t see the appeal in novels,” Jaime stated.

“It pains me to admit it but I’ve never seen the appeal either,” Brienne cut in.

“It’s probably because novels seem so very dull in comparison to your life, my dear,” Jaime informed her. “Not everybody has the chance to go hunting and horse riding on a daily basis.”

“I guess so.” Brienne must have seen the bemused look on Sansa’s face as she rushed to say, “I meant no offense, of course. I simply can’t sit still for more than a few minutes.”

“But- but- there’s something so fascinating about reading,” Sansa exclaimed. “Reading a novel is an adventure in itself. You meet new people and visit places you’ve never seen before.”

“I have to agree with Miss Stark on this,” Tyrion said and his brother nodded.

Brienne smiled. “I see I’m outnumbered,” she said pleasantly.

“There you are!” Margaery exclaimed as she took one of Sansa’s arm and Myrcella took the other. “Dinner is about to be served!”

Sansa had no choice but to follow them. They joined Meera and Jojen at the table where, Sansa was relieved to notice, Arya and Tommen seemed to be listening intently to Meera and were not causing any notable damage.

Sansa tried to ignore the constant chatter and Margaery’s false modesty as she picked at her food. Sansa was slowly realising that Margaery and her had not much in common after all; or perhaps, she thought bitterly, the both of them had in fact too much in common. It was hard to compete with someone as perfect as Margaery Tyrell.

Sansa realised after dinner that the evening could in fact get worse. She had not thought it possible before Margaery sat at Miss Reed’s brand new pianoforte and started to play and sing. Meera had been right of course, Margaery truly was talented. Not only did she play without any false note but also seemed to understand music in a way not many people did, Sansa included. There was just something about her when she began to sing. The way her voice seemed to flow out of her mouth and charm everyone in the room reminded Sansa of mermaids and what their voices would have sounded like.

The music started to fade. “ _But now the rains weep o'er his hall, with no one there to hear. Yes, now the rains weep o'er his hall, and not a soul to hear_ ,” Margaery sang quietly.

The room was quiet for a few seconds, then the spell seemed to be broken at last and everyone erupted into applause. Bemused, Sansa noticed that even Joffrey, who usually found no interest in anything, was actually clapping louder than anyone else. Sansa found herself clapping as well, acknowledging Margaery’s skills reluctantly, and tried not to glare too much as Joffrey praised Margaery’s talents profusely.


	5. Chapter 5

**CHAPTER V**

 

After a disastrous few days, Sansa was not sure coming to Bath had been such a good idea after all. Cersei seemed to show only contempt toward her, sneering and laughing at her at every turn. As for Joffrey, the young man had finally set his cap at Margaery and it appeared that there was nothing Sansa could do to turn the tide in her favour. Her relationship with Joffrey was now a lost cause. She did not mention any of this when she wrote to her mother, of course. Sansa focused on letting her mother know that both her daughters were adapting well to the city and having a good time. As Arya probably would not write any letter to their mother, it was Sansa’s duty to write about the both of them. She gave her letter to the butler when she went down for breakfast as she did not feel well enough to go to the post office herself.

“Sansa!” Myrcella greeted with a bright smile as Sansa entered the morning room. “I thought you’d never come down,” the girl said. “I feel quite exhausted myself after last night.”

All of them had been invited by Robert’s brother, Stannis Baratheon, and his wife to have dinner at their house in Bath the previous evening. Sansa had been appalled to see that her bad opinion of Stannis had not changed since the last time she had been in his presence. The man remained as rude as she remembered. The only bright side of the evening had been the presence of Stannis’ daughter, Shireen, of whom Sansa was very fond. Unfortunately, Shireen’s poor health prevented her to venture outside as much as she would like.

Sansa took a look around the room and realised that her sister was nowhere in sight. She enquired about her sister’s absence.

“Your sister went out with my aunt and uncle early this morning,” Myrcella answered. “I swear I have no idea how they can be out and about this early after last night.”

Sansa only nodded. As they ate, the girls made plans for the rest of the day. As both of them were too exhausted to do much, they decided to stay indoors and work on the new hats they had bought. Myrcella and Sansa both excelled at embroidery; they loved to enhance their own outfits and make them unique.

After a while, Cersei, Tommen and Joffrey joined them in the drawing room. Tommen immediately started playing with Brienne’s dog, a beautiful foxhound she had rescued and who would rarely leave her side. The care of the dog apparently constituted a point of contention in the family. Cersei would usually make some comment about the proper care of hounds and the fact that they ought not to enter the house at all; to which Tyrion or Jaime would reply she had in fact no experience whatsoever with hounds herself. Sansa had to admit Tyrion’s wit and repartee made her smile more each passing day, especially when it was aimed at Cersei.

Sansa’s heart skipped a bit when Joffrey sat beside her. His enquires about her embroidery work took her by surprised and she eagerly answered every single one of them. Sansa rejoiced at the opportunity to talk to him even though Joffrey seemed to lost interest after a few minutes.

When time for lunch came, Robert was still otherwise occupied and did not join them, neither did Jaime, Brienne nor Arya who still had yet to return. As for Tyrion, Sansa had not seen him since the previous evening.

Myrcella’s uncle only reappeared once Cersei had gone out with Joffrey after lunch, which did not look like a coincidence to Sansa. The man was carrying a heavy-looking book and set it down on the table, producing a loud sound.

Myrcella giggled. “What are you reading, Uncle Tyrion?” she asked as Tyrion turned the pages with utmost caution.

“A history of the kings and queens of England,” he answered.

“That sounds really… interesting,” Tommen said. Myrcella nodded without much fervour and went back to her embroidery work.

Tyrion smiled softly at his niece and nephew’s disinterest and went back to his reading.

“I…” Sansa stopped as Tyrion turned his attention to her. The girl cleared her throat awkwardly. “I think Shireen has been reading a similar book,” she said finally. “She mentioned it last night.”

“Shireen. She’s a sweet girl. I fear books are the only companions one can expect when suffering from bad health,” he noted.

Sansa had the feeling Tyrion was not talking about Robert’s niece anymore. “Is that why you read so much?” she found herself asking.

“My father never allowed me to hunt with him and my brother,” Tyrion answered truthfully. “I never even learnt how to ride a horse. I guess I could have learnt embroidery,” he joked. “But my dear father would have finally disowned me, I think. Books have been my only companions for years. What is it?” he asked gently, seeing her frown.

“It is silly,” she dismissed quickly.

“Nothing you say could ever be silly, I’m sure.”

“It’s just that I read a lot. Novels and poetry,” she stated. “But- It lacks substance, I guess.”

Tyrion gave her an indecipherable look. “You can learn a lot about the world in a novel, you said so yourself,” he reminded her. “But if you’re so set on the idea of reading more… substantial books, I’d suggest you take another look at Robert’s library. I’d recommend reading about history first instead of law; it can get a bit dull after all,” he told her with a friendly smile.

“Would you-” Sansa stopped, nervously fidgeting with the hat on her lap. “Would you mind reading it out loud?” she finally asked. Tyrion’s expression gave nothing away as he started reading. The same could not be said about Myrcella, whom Sansa could see rolling her eyes at them both. Sansa shrugged and resumed her embroidery work as Tyrion’s pleasant voice filled the room.


	6. Chapter 6

**CHAPTER VI**

Sansa took a deep breath and looked around the crowded room. She would never have thought that the Lower Rooms in Bath attracted that many people. Myrcella grabbed her by the arm and the two girls made their way out of the tea room and into the main room where several couples were dancing. Sansa was ashamed to admit Cersei had left the two of them to their own devices as soon as they had arrived and the room was so crowded that Sansa could not even see Brienne despite the blonde’s tall stature. As Sansa looked around them, she notice Myrcella’s look of surprise and followed the girl’s gaze to a charming brown-haired man standing opposite them. A small smile appeared on Myrcella’s sweet face. When Sansa looked back to the man, she saw him make his way to them with a bald man whose smile was too bright to be honest. Sansa recognised him as the Master of Ceremonies.

“Mr Martell,” the Master of Ceremonies said solemnly. “Miss Baratheon. Miss Stark.”

They bowed and the Master of Ceremonies disappeared back in the crowd.

“Miss Baratheon, would you do me the honour?” Mr Martell asked, offering Myrcella his arm.

Myrcella took the offered arm, gave Sansa one last smile and let Mr Martell lead her to the dancefloor. Sansa found herself alone once more and she set to find Brienne, who she finally saw conversing quietly with Mr Baelish and Tyrion in a corner of the room.

“I thought you’d be dancing with Joffrey,” Petyr Baelish noted with an amused smirk as Sansa joined them. Sansa stared at him, speechless.

“I fear my nephew is otherwise occupied,” Tyrion underlined, glancing at Joffrey and Margaery.

“Yes,” Petyr Baelish nodded. “Miss Tyrell is quite an accomplished young lady.” Judging from his tone of voice, it seemed the man was thinking about her large fortune rather than musical talent. “What a pity,” the man said with a final lingering look that made Sansa shudder. She sighed in relief when the man walked away.

“Is that Myrcella dancing with a young man?” Brienne enquired.

“This is Mr Martell,” Sansa rushed to say. “The Master of Ceremonies introduced them.”

“Ah, Varys, yes,” Tyrion snorted.

“Excuse me,” Brienne said as her eyes caught sight of her husband and father-in-law. “I should probably step in before one of them strangle the other,” she stated before walking away.

Sansa watched Brienne practically drag her husband away from his father. “Do you know him well?” she asked finally, turning her attention back to Tyrion.

“Who? Whom?”

“Mr Varys,” she clarified.

“Oh, yes,” Tyrion answered, clearly amused. “He’s an interesting man, to say the least. If you want to learn more about everyone’s darkest secrets, he’s definitely your man.”

“Why would I want to learn about everyone’s darkest secrets?” Sansa asked, confused.

Tyrion gave her a warm smile. “You wouldn’t, of course,” he acknowledged. “You’re far too good a person to even think about it,” he marvelled. “But everybody has secrets, that is something you learn after spending some time with this kind of people,” he said, glancing around the room. “There’s power in knowledge,” he explained. “Not the kind of power you get from lands or titles. No, it is another kind of power. More dangerous, in a way,” he mused.

“I don’t understand,” Sansa admitted.

Tyrion’s warm smile reached his eyes as he looked at her. “And I hope you won’t ever have to,” he said simply. “Now, if you don’t plan on dancing for the time being, there’s someone I’d like you to meet.” Tyrion did not offer her his arm but gestured for her to follow him as he led her through the crowded room. Sansa glanced at Myrcella and Mr Martell who were still dancing happily together and giving each other besotted smiles.

Sansa slowed down as she caught sight of the person Tyrion wanted her to meet.

“Miss Stark,” he said in a formal tone. “This is Daenerys Targaryen.” Sansa was ashamed to admit she slightly recoiled when she crossed gaze with the blond woman. There was something about her that commanded respect and she seemed infinitely wise for her young age.

“Miss Stark,” Daenerys Targaryen greeted in a clear voice. “It is a pleasure to finally meet you.”

“If you’ll excuse me,” Tyrion said. “There’s something I need to ask my brother.”

Tyrion walked away and Sansa found herself alone with Daenerys Targaryen.

“You are staying with Tyrion’s sister, I believe,” the woman finally said after a moment of tense silence.

“I am,” Sansa nodded. “Myrcella – that is, Tyrion’s niece – is a dear friend of mine. She invited me here. Are you well acquainted with the family?” Sansa asked politely.

“In a way,” the woman answered evasively. “My father and Tywin Lannister never saw eye to eye. I have to admit that I was pleasantly surprise to see that Tyrion had nothing in common with his father.”

Sansa nodded. “How did you two meet?” she enquired.

“Tyrion helped me settle an inheritance matter a few years ago; he is an excellent lawyer you see. We’ve been friends ever since,” she paused. “I am proud of calling him my friend.”

“I was very sorry to hear about your husband,” Sansa said delicately.

“Thank you,” Daenerys nodded. “As you see, grief can bring people together in the oddest ways. But enough of this,” she woman said, smiling suddenly. “Tyrion told me this was your first time in Bath.”

“That is true.”

“And that you were very fond of music.” Sansa nodded. “Then you will find that the city is perfect for you. I am sure you already went to some concerts…” Daenerys frowned at seeing the girl shake her head. “Really?” she asked, surprised.

“I have attended a few balls,” Sansa explained. “And we’ve been invited by friends of the family but I did not have the occasion to go to a concert yet. I’m afraid Mrs Baratheon doesn’t find any interest in them.”

“I see what you mean,” Daenerys noted, looking somewhere behind Sansa’s shoulder with a frown. “I would be happy to take you to one if you’d like, if Mrs Baratheon doesn’t have any objection of course.”

Sansa could not keep her surprise at bay. She gaped at the woman. “I’d love to!” she exclaimed with a bright smile.

Sansa was surprised to see the hours flowing by that evening. Daenerys Targaryen’s company was everything Sansa could have hoped to find in Bath. The woman was elegant, smart and very kind.

“How did you like Daenerys?” Tyrion asked as they made their way inside the house a few hours later.

“I liked her very much,” Sansa answered truthfully.  

“Good, I’m glad. She lacks good company; you see, people are often drawn to her wealth and it can be hard for her to form a close bond with someone.” Sansa nodded in understanding. “She’s really dear to me. I wouldn’t entrust her to anyone else,” he told Sansa quietly.

The girl found herself at a loss for words. She felt her cheeks reddening inexplicably. “I- Thank you,” she stammered. “Good night.”


	7. Chapter 7

**CHAPTER VII**

Myrcella approached her the next morning after breakfast was served. “I need to ask you something,” the girl said in a quiet voice. “I don’t mean to be presumptuous, and you are free to answer me honestly, of course.”

“Whatever it is, I am sure I’ll be happy to help.”

Myrcella dropped her gaze to the floor. “Trystane – that is, Mr Martell asked me to join him on his daily walk today,” she explained hesitantly. Sansa nodded, encouraging the girl to go on. “Would you mind terribly if you came with us?”

“Oh, you want me to…?” Sansa trailed off.

Myrcella nodded shyly. “If it isn’t too much to ask.”

“Not at all!” Sansa exclaimed. “I’d be happy to join you on your walk.”

Myrcella surprised Sansa by hugging her gently. “Thank you, Sansa.”

The two girls were ready to go out by midday. They made their way out of the house as Cersei and her father walked down the stairs.

“Myrcella, dear,” her mother called. “Have you seen-” Cersei made a face. “Have you seen your uncle Tyrion?” she finally asked.

Myrcella shook her head. “I haven’t, Mother,” she answered.

“All right, then, you can go now,” the woman said. Then, she followed her father inside the morning room.

Just as Myrcella put her hand on the door handle, the two girls heard a faint sound coming from the top of the stairs. “Are they gone now?” Tyrion asked Myrcella quietly from his vantage point.

Myrcella smiled at him. “They are, Uncle,” she whispered.

Tyrion sighed heavily. “Good, good,” he said, slowly walking down the stairs. “Where are you two off to?” he asked pleasantly.

“We were about to join Trystane Martell on his daily walk,” Myrcella explained.

Tyrion nodded. All three of them turned around at hearing footsteps inside the morning room.

“Would you like to join us?” Myrcella asked in a hushed voice.

“What a terrific idea, Myrcella,” Tyrion hurried to say. “Let’s go.”

The man did not even bother with a hat and the three of them closed the front door as the door of the morning room opened once more. Trystane Martell was waiting for them outside the house, wearing a lovely shade of brown and a stylish top hat. He greeted all of them pleasantly and offered Myrcella his arm. They took off, Sansa and Tyrion following them at a reasonable distance.

“It is very generous of you to be their chaperon,” Tyrion said after a few minutes of silence.

Sansa, who had been lost in thoughts up until that point, turned to him in surprise. It took her a short moment to understand his meaning. “Not at all. Myrcella is a dear friend, it was only normal.”

“Well, not too many people bother with these sorts of things nowadays,” he noted.

“I don’t think Trystane Martell is the kind of young men to endanger a woman’s reputation,” Sansa underlined.

“True. The same can’t be said about every young man, unfortunately.”

“Who do you mean?” Sansa asked with interest.

Tyrion glanced at her. “An old man’s digression, don’t pay it any mind,” he stated.

“You’re not that old,” Sansa countered at once. Tyrion laughed out loud. “I mean… You’re not!” she exclaimed. She bit her lip as Tyrion laughed some more. As they kept walking, Sansa tried to find a topic that would not make her look like a complete idiot. She was curious about one thing, however.

“Why were you trying to avoid your father and sister?” she ventured at last.

Tyrion stilled imperceptibly. “My father has been trying to marry me off for years. It’s an on-going argument,” he stated evenly. “And my dear sister seems to thrive on my misery. I wouldn’t want her to witness this.”

“This sounds… awful,” Sansa said quietly.

“Well, you may have noticed that my family does not get along well,” he stated. Sansa nodded. She had indeed been appalled to witness the obvious tension running inside the Lannister family. It was such an odd concept to her who came from a loving family.

“Why would your father want to marry you off?” she asked timidly.

Tyrion shook his head, amused. “Look at me and tell me what you see,” he told her at last.

“I’m not sure I understand what you mean.”

“My father is a great man,” Tyrion stated. “He was hoping his children would follow in his footsteps but we’ve only ever been a disappointment to him. He had a whole career in the military planned out for my brother Jaime, but Jaime was not interested. He chose his own path, away from my father and married a woman he loved.”

“But your father seems to like your sister-in-law well enough,” Sansa noted.

“Oh, he does, oddly enough,” Tyrion said. “It also annoys my sister to no end,” he added with a smirk. “My dear sister married Robert because my father commanded it. She’s always tried to meet my father’s expectations. It’s a shame he doesn’t pay her any more attention, she’s the only one of us that actually cares about what Father thinks.”

“What about you?” Sansa asked.

“The only reason my Father still bears with me is because of my last name. ‘The family name lives on’,” he quoted dramatically. “My father expects me to marry a rich woman of his choosing, it is the only way I could bring my family some honour,” he explained, smiling bitterly.

Sansa glanced at him, at a loss for words. She had to admit she did not get along with her siblings but Sansa would never treat any of her family members that way.

“Your father might let you marry a person of your own choosing,” Sansa countered. “Everyone deserves a chance at marrying for love-”

“Love?” Tyrion exclaimed, surprised. “I gave up on love a long time ago,” he said. “No, love is for people like my brother or even young Mr Martell,” he explained. “The only reason any sane woman would wish to marry me would be my fortune, and I can’t accept that.”

Sansa nodded. She could not accept the idea of a marriage of convenience either. However, it saddened her to note that Tyrion had simply given up altogether.

Their discussion soon drift off from the topic of the Lannister family and the two of them spent the next hour discussing Sansa’s current readings, which was, all in all, a safer topic for both of them.


	8. Chapter 8

**CHAPTER VIII**

 

Myrcella pinned the last of Sansa’s hair in place as she related the conversation she had with Trystane Martell that very morning during their walk. Sansa was happy to see her friend so enamoured with the young man but she hoped their romance would not cause them any problem or endanger Myrcella’s reputation.

The Lannisters were entertaining that evening. Myrcella and Sansa made their way down the stairs slowly as not to trip on their gowns. Sansa noticed Arya conversing quietly with Brienne from the corner of her eye and was surprised to note that her sister had obviously bought a new dress. The gown was the same shade of blue Brienne usually wore; it seemed made of several layers of the same fabric and was more elegant than any outfit Arya had been wearing until then. Sansa smiled. If Brienne kept her sister company during the evening, Arya would be less inclined to engage in a food fight with Tommen.

The family greeted the guests as they arrived, the Reeds, the Tyrells, the Greyjoys, Petyr Baelish, Roslin Frey and one of her older brothers, and Daenerys Targaryen who greeted Sansa with a warm and genuine smile. Sansa made the acquaintance of Randyll Tarly and his wife and daughter. Randyll Tarly was a Baronet who seemed to frown upon everything and everyone whereas his wife and daughter both seemed to be of agreeable company.

During dinner, Tyrion sat beside Miss Greyjoy, the daughter of Mr Balon Greyjoy. As Yara Greyjoy’s fortune was well known, Sansa wondered if Tywin had orchestrated the meeting. It would not have been surprising, judging by Tyrion’s constant grimace. Sansa caught sight of Jaime’s smirk and Brienne scolding look aimed at her husband.

Once they left the table, the girls took turn playing the piano while the guests played cards or discussed business and drank wine. Robert’s voice was booming inside the room; Brienne was relating her last hunting trip to Arya and Tommen; Roslin Frey, Talla Tarly, Margaery and Myrcella were gathered around the round table playing cards while Tywin Lannister and Olenna Tyrell seemed to be judging everyone present. Tyrion had finally introduced Yara Greyjoy to Daenerys and made his way to Sansa as she sat at the piano. Joffrey, as usual, was paying her no mind but Sansa realised as Tyrion came to a stop beside her, that Joffrey’ indifference did not matter as much as she would have thought.

“I thought I recognised that song,” Tyrion said as he glanced at the sheet music.

Sansa’s hands did not waver as she looked away from the sheet. “You did?” she asked in wonder. Although the piece she had chosen to play that evening came from a well-known composer, it was not his most famous one. It was however Sansa’s favourite.

“If I may,” Tyrion started. “It is a delight hearing you play.”

“Thank you,” Sansa answered, blushing slightly. Her hands wavered slightly but she paid no mind to the obvious false note that followed. “My father gave me the same sheet music as a present for my birthday last year,” she explained as her gaze travelled from one side of the sheet to the other. “I was surprised to find it in Myrcella’s personal collection.”

“My niece is very fond of music,” Jaime stated as he came to a stop beside the piano with his wife. “Is that Yara Greyjoy talking to Daenerys?” he asked his brother.

Tyrion glanced at the women standing on the other side of the drawing room. “Indeed. Father thought that I should meet Miss Greyjoy. The poor girl had no idea what she was agreeing to.”

“Is he still set on the idea of forcing you to marry?” Brienne asked in a hushed voice. Tyrion nodded regretfully. “This is appalling,” the woman stated.

“At least she seems to be enjoying herself,” Tyrion noted. They all glanced at the two women laughing quietly.

Joffrey made his way to them. “Would you mind playing something else?” he asked her. “I would love to dance with Miss Tyrell,” he added, glancing back at the young woman smiling at him.

Sansa’s shoulders drop. “Of course,” she mumbled as Joffrey turned around, paying no mind to her answer.

Sansa started to rummage through Myrcella’s collection at once and missed the look of disgust on Brienne and Tyrion’s face as Joffrey walked away.

“Someone should save Daenerys from having to dance with Balon Greyjoy,” Tyrion noted suddenly.

Brienne turned to her husband. “You should dance with her,” she told him.

“Are you sure?” he asked in surprise.

“You know I don’t dance, and I guess Tyrion won’t dance either?” she asked, glancing at her brother-in-law. Tyrion shook his head. “I wouldn’t say Daenerys needs saving but I’d rather not witness her refusing to dance with Balon Greyjoy,” Brienne underlined.

“You are right as usual, my dear,” Jaime finally agreed.

Sansa resolutely kept her eyes on the sheet music as Margaery’s laughter echoed through the room.


	9. Chapter 9

**CHAPTER IX**

 

After the party, the girl had given back Tyrion the book he had so generously lent her a few days prior. She had been meaning to give it back earlier but Tyrion had been nowhere to be found. She had finally decided to knock on his bedroom door after the party and had stuttered through an apology as well as a thank you as she handed him the book. A voice in the back of her mind - vaguely resembling Arya’s - had underlined that that sort of behaviour was highly improper but Sansa had paid it no attention whatsoever.

Giving Tyrion the book back meant that Sansa had to find a new one. The girl thus decided to leave the house soon after breakfast the next morning and go to the bookshop by herself. She thought spending some time alone after the excitation of the past few days would do her some good and allow her to reflect on what had happened since she came to Bath. Meeting Mrs Olenna Tyrell and Margaery had been truly educational and Sansa had to admit that, even if she sometimes happened to be jealous of Margaery, the young woman was an inspiration to her. Meeting Daenerys Targaryen had been somewhat unexpected but Sansa was glad Tyrion had introduced them. The blond woman was everything Sansa hoped to be one day: smart, generous, kind, and extremely beautiful.

“Are you going out on your own?” someone asked as Sansa opened the front door.

The girl gritted her teeth and turned around slowly. She managed a smile that she knew did not quite reach her eyes. “Yes, indeed,” she answered. Joffrey smirked.

“You are not going far, I hope.”

“The bookshop,” Sansa told him reluctantly. “I won’t be long.”

“Mother would kill me if she knew I’d let you wander in this big city on your own,” Joffrey underlined. “Let me accompany you.”

“I’m sure you have more interesting things to do than…”

“Oh, I insist,” Joffrey exclaimed as he put on his gloves. “It’s not safe for you to go out by yourself.”

Joffrey opened the door and put his hand on the small of Sansa’s back to guide her outside of the house. As they made their way through the crowded streets, Sansa let Joffrey talk. She managed to hold her tongue and keep her witty retorts to herself with difficulty. Now that she had seen more of the world, Sansa realised that Joffrey was not a gentleman. The boy was shallow and rude, and his behaviour was highly improper. He was standing really close to her, she realised when their arms brushed up as they walked slowly.

Sansa truly could not fathom Joffrey’s behaviour at the moment. He had never paid her any attention, even less so after meeting Margaery Tyrell.

When they finally entered the bookshop, Joffrey immediately started criticising novels without bothering to lower his voice. Several people in the shop turned their heads and glared at him. Sansa slipped behind a bookshelf unnoticed and set to finding the novel she had been looking for since her first day in Bath.

“ _The Romance of the Forest_?” Joffrey asked with scorn, glancing over her shoulder to the book in her hands. Sansa felt his breath on her cheek and that alone sent a shiver down her spine. “Did Myrcella told you about it?” he added with a smirk. “A bit dull if you ask me. No, if you like gothic novels-”

“I don’t really-”

“You should at least read _Udolpho_ ,” Joffrey stated. “If you’re so set on the idea of reading anything by this Radcliffe woman, that is. Or better yet, read _the Monk_. Now, this one was a laugh,” he told her. “I’m sure that one would give you nightmares for a fortnight at least!” he exclaimed.

Sansa stared at him, at a loss for words. She put the book back slowly and walked to another section of the shop. The girl grabbed the largest book on the shelf in front of her without bothering to read the title.

What could have been a pleasant outing had turned into a nightmare because of Joffrey. Sansa was now eager to go back to the house. However, Joffrey next lead her to a couple other shops, all the while taking great delight in telling her the most horrifying stories about his hunting trips with his father.

The two of them finally made their way back to the house and saw Arya, Tyrion and Brienne who seemed ready to go out. Sansa met Arya suspicious gaze but lowered her eyes a second later. Then she quickly entered the house and hurried up the stairs to her room, all the while pretending not to hear Brienne asking her to join them on their walk.

Sansa kept to her room for the remaining of the day to get away Joffrey and even pretended to have a sudden headache to avoid dinner that evening.

To Sansa’s surprise, Arya came to her room later that night as the girl was brushing her hair. “Are you feeling alright?” her sister asked.

“Don’t pretend like you care,” Sansa countered.

Arya glared at her. “We all saw you coming back from your walk with Joffrey, you know,” Arya told her. “You should be more careful, I-”

“Mind your own business, Arya,” Sansa rebuked.

Sansa did not look away from the mirror as her sister stormed out.


	10. Chapter 10

**CHAPTER X**

When she woke up the next morning, Sansa was felling much calmer. She headed down for breakfast early and found Brienne and Myrcella in the morning room. However, Sansa lacked appetite that morning and decided to take a walk around the garden only a few minutes later. She sat down on a bench in the garden behind the house and finally opened the large volume she had bought the previous day. She realised with a smile that in her hurry to escape Joffrey, she had picked a book of historical ballads and poems. Sansa could not have made a better choice, she realised as she turned the heavy pages with care. The book was magnificent, which probably was the reason it had coasted her so much to beginning with but Sansa’s father had never refused to buy any book that met her fancy; he would probably not blame her for this costly expense.

As Sansa was getting lost in the story of a valorous knight, a shadow suddenly appeared above her, distracting her enough that she looked up from the book. She felt a shiver running down her spine upon seeing Joffrey smirking down at her. The boy sat down beside her on the bench without waiting for an invitation.

“There you are, I’ve been looking all over for you!” he exclaimed. “Mother thought you’d be here.”

Sansa turned her whole attention back to the book in her hands. However, Joffrey did not acknowledge the simple dismissal. Instead, the boy sat even closer to her, pretending to take a closer look at the book Sansa was reading. He let out a groan only a second afterwards.

“Ah, this is so boring. How can you stand it?” Joffrey exclaimed. The boy was not expecting an answer, of course, and Sansa had no intention of giving him one either way. He stretched out his legs, then his arms, brushing accidently Sansa’s back. The girl jumped on her feet.

“Indeed it is,” she said evenly. “You are right of course, this is so boring. I’ll go find your sister instead.”

Sansa allowed herself to enjoy Joffrey’s bemused look during a second before turning around and walking back to the house. It took her all her willpower not to run all the way to her room. Sansa turned around the corner and nearly ran into a man coming out of the house.

“My apologies,” Mr Baelish said as he bent down to retrieve Sansa’s book from the ground. “Miss Stark,” he greeted with a smile. “As pleasant as this is, I have some pressing matters that require my attention.”

He turned around after one last lingering look. Sansa stood frozen on the spot, bemused.

The next few days felt like a blur to Sansa. The girl was under the impression of being tossed about as a ship during a storm. Wherever she went, Joffrey seemed always there to taunt her. The boy’s shadow seemed to be following her around permanently; whether she walked around the city with Myrcella or wished to go by herself to the post office in the morning, the girl could not enjoy a moment of peace anymore. 


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sorry for the delay guys, I’ve been kind of sick lately. I’ll try to post the next chapters soon.

**CHAPTER XI**

When news of Margaery and Joffrey’s engagement reached her, Sansa felt only relief. Sansa’s routine as she prepared for the ball that evening went unperturbed. As they made their way through the crowded room, Myrcella immediately let go of Sansa’s arm to join Trystane Martell. The young man seemed eager to see Myrcella again and the two of them wasted no time securing two seats in the tearoom. Arya walked to Meera Reed as soon as she spotted the other girl and Sansa noted with surprise that the two girls seemed to have become dear friends in the past few weeks.

As the couples walked to the dance floor, Sansa found that she did not wish to leave Brienne’s side as the taller woman talked quietly to her husband. Brienne and Jaime had been talking about Tywin’s plan to arrange the marriage of his younger son and Yara Greyjoy. The thought of Tyrion enduring a loveless marriage for the sole purpose of satisfying his father’s delusions of grandeur was more than Sansa could bear. Brienne and Jaime seemed to think so as well.

“After everything he’s already been through,” Brienne said quietly.

“Father thinks it better to choose himself. Tyrion could never be trusted to chose a… suitable wife.”

Brienne glared at her husband. “It’s not his fault if… if… It’s not his fault some women are only interested in his fortune! And it is not your father’s place to choose who would be best suited for Tyrion.”

“I understand how you feel, my dear. However, I’m afraid my father is not a man who can easily be reasoned with.”

Brienne took a deep breath but remained silent when she saw Tyrion making his way to them. Sansa felt the blood rush to her cheeks when their eyes met. Tyrion’s smile at seeing her was so genuine the girl could not help but smile back wholeheartedly.

As Myrcella kept dancing with Mr Martell, Sansa sat down next to Tyrion. They discussed the different music pieces chosen for the evening and once more Sansa marvelled at the fact that dancing did not appear as appealing as it once was. Tyrion kept smiling at her and Sansa kept blushing inexplicably. She was under his spell, she realised suddenly. How else could she explain the redness of her cheeks? She might have fallen in love without even realising it. The feeling was so very different from what she had imagined and read about. There was no burning passion or overwhelming desire on her part, only deep respect and close friendship between them. Sansa was disappointed to realise that friendship might be the only relationship possible between them. Tyrion was an intelligent, strong-minded man who had seen more of the world than Sansa could ever imagine. She was simply too young and too stupid for Tyrion to ever return her feelings.

Sansa tensed as the music stopped. She looked up and stared into the cold eyes of Joffrey standing in front of her. He smirked at her and extended his hand.

“You are the only girl not dancing,” Joffrey underlined unpleasantly. “You should find yourself a proper dance partner,” he added with a pointed look to his uncle.

They were starting to attract other people’s attention. Sansa saw Cersei glaring at her from the other side of the room, as well as Littlefinger watching her like a hawk.

Sansa had no escape. No polite one, at least. She gulped and took Joffrey’s hand. The boy’s grip on her hand instantly tightened as he dragged her to the dance floor. Sansa let his words wash over her and focused on the music instead. She tried to ignore Joffrey’s closeness as they danced. The boy was standing very close to her and she could feel his breath on her cheek. Why was he not dancing with Margaery? Surely, Joffrey ought not to dance with Sansa when he was engaged to another woman. Sansa actually worried about Margaery’s reputation since her engagement to Joffrey. Sweet and nice Margaery did not deserve such a horrible husband.

Sansa made her escape as soon as the music stopped. She did not wait for Joffrey to walk her back to her seat. She only slowed down once she reached an isolated corridor. Sansa heard quiet whispers coming from a room nearby and spotted Margaery and her grandmother talking quietly. Margaery seemed beyond distressed. Sansa had never seen her look so sad.

“It’s too dangerous for him here, you know that,” Olenna said.

“I just miss him so much,” Margaery sobbed quietly.

Sansa walked away quickly, immediately feeling guilty for eavesdropping on the two women. She only returned to the main room after making sure that Joffrey was otherwise engaged. The girl intended to join Brienne and Jaime to the tearoom when she almost ran into Littlefinger once more. The man smirked at her.

“I gather some congratulations will soon be in order,” he told her.

At Sansa’s frown, the man pointed at the other side of the room. Sansa smiled when she saw that Daenerys had finally arrived and was talking to Tyrion.

“It is a good match after all,” Littlefinger underlined.

“No, you are mistaken,” Sansa said, finally understanding his meaning. “They are old friends, nothing more.”

“Are you sure about that?” Littlefinger challenged. “After all, why would a man and a woman in their prime be this close if they did not intend to marry?” he noted.

“Daenerys vowed to never remarry,” Sansa countered.

“Would you be as presumptuous as to pretend knowing what goes through Daenerys Targaryen’s head?”

Sansa stared at him. “I know her.”

Littlefinger shook his head. “They’ve known each other longer than you’ve known them,” he stated before walking away.

Sansa glanced at Daenerys and Tyrion laughing quietly and felt a tear running down her cheek.

 


	12. Chapter 12

**CHAPTER XII**

In the wake of Littlefinger’s revelation, Sansa actively avoided Tyrion. She even found an excuse to stay behind when the man suggested a trip to the bookshop. Sansa’s own revelation about the nature of her feelings for Tyrion could not have come at a worse time. The girl at least took some comfort in the knowledge that Tyrion had finally found a woman that loved him for who he really was and not only for his fortune. After all, Daenerys was a dear friend and Sansa knew deep down that the woman’s intensions were as pure as can be.

When Tyrion went back to London to attend to some urgent business without even a goodbye, Sansa could not decide between feeling disappointed or relieved at this turn of event.

The girl did not see Daenerys again until the Reeds invited both of them for dinner several days after Tyrion’s departure. Daenerys’s coldness toward her took Sansa by surprise that night.

“Sansa,” the woman finally said gently once they were alone. “I understand that Tyrion’s feelings for you might have been… unwelcome, but-”

Sansa startled. “I’m sorry?” Sansa exclaimed. “No, he’s in love with you,” she blurted.

The woman stared at her in silence and Sansa was taken aback to see Daenerys Targaryen at a loss for words.

“My dear Sansa,” the woman said calmly, taking Sansa’s hands in hers. “Why would you think that Tyrion is in love with me?” she asked in a hushed voice.

“I thought everything was decided between the two of you,” Sansa explained. “Mr Baelish told me that your engagement would soon be announced. Am I to understand that you are not going to marry Tyrion?” Sansa asked in earnest.

“I assure you I am not,” Daenerys answered.

“But Mr Baelish-”

“Men can tell the strangest lies when they have their eyes set on something,” Daenerys explained.

“What do you mean?”

“Think, my dear Sansa. Why would Mr Baelish tell you such a blatant lie?”

Sansa thought about what she knew of the man. “You think Petyr Baelish is in love with me?” she finally exclaimed in disbelief.

Daenerys frowned. “I don’t think that man is capable of loving anyone but himself,” she stated. “However, he wants you. Of that, I am sure.”

“I can’t believe he would lie to me so!” Sansa exclaimed. Daenerys raised one eyebrow. “I admit it would not be completely out of character,” Sansa amended.

“Sansa,” Daenerys said gently. “Pardon me for asking so forwardly but why would Baelish feel threatened by Tyrion?”

Sansa averted her gaze. “It doesn’t matter what that awful man might think; Tyrion does not feel that way about me, believe me.”

“Why would you think so?”

Sansa took a deep breath. “Tyrion is so- And I am so- I’m just a stupid little girl, he would never be interested in me!”

“Oh, Sansa,” Daenerys sighed. “You are far from stupid. You see the good in people, that is a strength, not a weakness. You are kind and generous and, most important of all, you are honest and this – I must admit – is very rare in this day and age. Do you know why I was so upset with you earlier?” Sansa shook her head. “It was unfair of me to react this way but seeing your friends hurting and not being able to do anything about it is quite trying. Tyrion confides in me. And- he told me about his feelings for you very clearly. However, he still thinks that he doesn’t deserve you, you see.”

“That is completely absurd,” Sansa blurted. “Why would he-”

“Sansa, you are young, you are beautiful and you are not without fortune. You could have any man you want, and Tyrion knows that.”

“But I don’t want anyone else,” Sansa exclaimed. She blushed at her own forwardness.

Daenerys smiled gently at her. “Then you should tell him that,” she advised.

“But how?” Sansa exclaimed. “He left for London thinking that I could never love him back! My behaviour towards him has been appalling.”

Daenerys smiled gently at her. “You will find a way, I’m sure.”

When Sansa went back home that evening, she did not take the time to change out of her gown. She sat down at the desk, grabbed a quill and began writing.

 


	13. Chapter 13

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There you go folks, last chapter. Thanks for all the comments and kudos, they are a writer’s only reward!

**CHAPTER XIII**

Daenerys gaped at her a long while when Sansa handed her the carefully folded letter.

“Do you really trust me with this?” the woman asked, surprised.

Sansa nodded simply. “There is nobody I trust more,” Sansa told her sincerely.

“I’ll make sure Tyrion gets this letter as soon as I go back to London in a few days,” Daenerys told her. She took Sansa’s hands in her. “My dear Sansa, I am sure we will see each other again very soon.”

After Daenerys’ departure, Sansa most often found herself alone in the garden reading, thinking or even embroidering. Her own sister was still actively avoiding her, talking long walks with Brienne or Meera Reed and Myrcella spent her days with young Mr Martell while Sansa kept to the house.

Sansa made her way back inside the house with the idea of spending a few hours in Robert’s library.

“Where have you been hiding?” Joffrey exclaimed as soon as she went through the front door. “Sansa, Sansa, Sansa,” he said, linking their arms together. “You’ll never find a husband if you don’t leave the house at least once in a while,” he explained, shaking his head in disdain. “Come, I was about to go out.”

“I’d rather stay indoors,” Sansa countered in a small voice, trying to break away from Joffrey’s hold.

“Nonsense,” Joffrey stated.

“I-” Sansa tried again. “It’s not necessary, I-”

Sansa heard footsteps down the corridor. “Let her go,” Arya exclaimed when she caught sight of Joffrey and Sansa.

“Arya, don’t,” Sansa warned her sister.

“I said, let her go,” Arya told Joffrey coldly.

The young man scoffed and tightened his hold on Sansa’s arm. Arya walked to them quickly and stood in front of Joffrey, glaring furiously. Joffrey laughed viciously as Sansa watched them both, helpless. Then, as Joffrey showed no sign of letting go of Sansa’s arm, Arya’s fist rose in the air. The girl punched Joffrey in the face with so much force that he took a step back, screaming in pain, both hands flying immediately to his bleeding nose.

“You little-” he exclaimed angrily.

“What is the meaning of this?” Cersei asked as she made her way to them hurriedly. She gasped when she caught sight of her son. “What happened?” she asked Joffrey, putting both arms protectively around the boy. “Which one of you did that?” she asked angrily. “You!” Arya strengthened her back and hold Cersei’s gaze without flinching. “I will not tolerate this any longer!”

The commotion had drawn the attention of Jaime and Brienne who rushed inside the room. Robert made his way to them unhurriedly.

“What is going on, woman?” he groaned.

“This little minx hit your son!” Cersei exclaimed, pointing accusingly at Arya.

Robert frowned and turned to Arya. “Is this true?”

“Only because he wouldn’t let go of Sansa!” Arya replied angrily.

“She’s lying!” Joffrey yelled.

“Oh, shut up,” Arya spat out.

“I want them out of this house this instant!” Cersei told her husband.

“Dear sister,” Jaime said calmly. “Don’t you think this is a bit excessive?”

“Now!” Cersei yelled.

Sansa never would have thought she would be happy to set foot in Winterfell again. After the disastrous way her time in Bath had ended, the girl was genuinely happy to return home at last.

Her father had assured that the way she had parted with the Baratheons had not affected his friendship with Robert. Sansa would have hated to cause a rift between the two men. They had been friends long before Sansa was born after all.

Sansa had not expected to hear about Myrcella knowing how much Cersei hated Sansa and Arya for hurting her precious first born. Receiving a letter from her friend informing Sansa of Myrcella’s recent engagement to Trystane Martell had taken Sansa by surprise. Myrcella’s letter was a complete retelling of her engagement to Trystane, how her mother had outright refused the match – pretending that Myrcella was simply too young to marry anyone – while her father had been more than satisfied with Trystane’s situation in life. Myrcella of course was well aware that her own mother had been very young when she had wed Robert but Sansa had no doubt Myrcella and Trystane would be very happy together. Both of them were simply too nice to let resentment grow between them, unlike Robert and Cersei who seemed to live only to spite each other.

Myrcella’s letter was not the only one Sansa received in the first few weeks after her return to Winterfell. Margaery Tyrell also took the time to personally inform Sansa that she had broken off her engagement to Joffrey recently. Sansa welcomed the news with surprise and relief on behalf of her friend.

The two letters were the only proof of Sansa’s time in Bath. At home, surrounded by her family, it seemed as though nothing had changed. However, everything had changed. Sansa was not the same naïve girl she was when she had left. She also got along better with Arya these days. Neither girl had expected their time away to make them grow closer. However, the two sisters had come to rely on each other more and enjoy spending time together. Arya had told her of a conversation the girl had had with Tyrion while they had still been in Bath. The man had told Arya that having a sister as sweet as Sansa was a blessing. Sansa had blushed at the praise and Arya had smirked knowingly. They had not mentioned the man again.

Sansa did not want to think about Tyrion and the letter she had given Daenerys before leaving. The wait had been unbearable at first. Then, as the weeks passed, Sansa had come to the conclusion that Tyrion Lannister was simply not interested in her after all.

Spending time with her nieces and nephews had helped her forget about her heartbreak. Rob and his wife had come to visit, as well as their mother’s brother Edmund and his bride, Roslin Frey, now Roslin Tully whom Sansa had briefly met in Bath.

Sansa tried to forget what had happened in Bath. However, she dreaded the moment the Baratheons and Joffrey would come back to their family house. Sansa could not bear the idea of living close to Joffrey again. She might visit Myrcella and Trystane once they settled into their new house in the south.

Then, one quiet morning, Sansa’s life took a turn for the better.

The girl was already late for breakfast, too busy that she was trying to gather her rebellious hair into a simple bun. She found the task particularly frustrating that morning. She made her way downstairs hurriedly, trying to tie a bow in her hair as best as she could without falling down the stairs. Voices rose from the entrance hall. Oh, how Sansa cursed her lack of punctuality that morning. Breakfast had most certainly been served already.

She heard Jon’s voice and froze halfway down the stairs when she caught sight of the man shaking Jon’s hand.

“Lannister!” Jon greeted warmly. “What brings you here? I thought we were supposed to meet in London!”

“Indeed. However, I had- I have some urgent business to attend here.”

“I didn’t know you wished to see my father-”

“Well, that’s not exactly why… you see…”

“Tyrion!” Sansa finally exclaimed.

She hurried down the stairs to greet the man. She barely noticed the commotion had drawn her parents and siblings out of the morning room.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, bemused. “Did you receive my letter?” she asked before remembering – too late – that she had no reason to write to a man who was not a member of her family and had just admitted to a fault in front of her whole family.

Sansa chanced a glance around her and noticed her parents’ confused looks, as well as Rob and Arya’s smirks.

“Miss Stark,” Tyrion greeted, finally looking at her. Sansa did not remember ever seeing him that hesitant. “If I could have a word. In private.”

Sansa did not wait for her parents’ permission and immediately guided Tyrion outside the house. She tried to ignore Rickon’s face against the window, looking at them.

“I must apologize for the delay,” Tyrion begun as they walked. “I’ve been retained by some pressing matter that unfortunately took more time than I had originally thought.”

“Nothing too dire, I hope,” Sansa said.

“You know of Robert’s partnership with Baelish.” Sansa nodded. “As I had suspected, the whole thing was a scam and Robert was in need of my assistance,” he shook his head regretfully. “The venture was risky, I had told him as much but you know my brother-in-law. He can be quite stubborn.”

“Did you manage to salvage anything?” she asked with concern.

“Oh yes,” Tyrion said. “But this is not the reason I am here,” he added.

Sansa felt her cheeks redden. “I am sorry for the way I acted,” Sansa told him, finally glancing at Tyrion. “I was so hurt by what Baelish had told me… what he made me believe… I did not think of anyone but myself,” she admitted shamefully.

“Do not blame yourself,” Tyrion told her kindly. “As you know, you are not the only one Baelish had ever tricked.”

“He…” Sansa trailed off hesitantly. “Daenerys told me he wanted to marry me,” she whispered. “He lied to me and I was stupid enough to believe him. If it wasn’t for Daenerys, I…”

Tyrion smiled sweetly. “I have to admit, I was fairly surprised you would take the risk to give such a letter to Daenerys,” Tyrion told her.

“I trust her,” Sansa stated simply. “She is a dear friend.”

They remained silent for a moment, as neither of them knew how to approach the subject of the letter. Sansa slowed her pace and sat down on the stone bench in the garden. She glanced at Tyrion. “What did you think?” she asked him.

“I was surprised to receive your letter,” Tyrion admitted. “I dared not… I did not think…”

Seeing Tyrion so inarticulate was such an oddity that Sansa found herself smiling gently at him.

“Sansa, I feel I have to be completely honest with you before we go on.”

“What is it?”

“I’ve gathered that my brother and sister-in-law may have told you about my past relationships.”

Sansa nodded slowly. “They did not say much. I believe your sister-in-law was not aware I did not know about it.”

“I told you once that the only reason a woman would ever wish to marry me would be my fortune. I know that because it already happened. Not once, but twice. I am ashamed to admit I was not always as versed in the ways of the world as I am now. I was young and stupid and I thought she loved me. Her name was Tysha. It took me years to learn to trust a woman with my heart again. Then I met Shae… After that, I resigned myself. I thought I would spend the rest of my life alone. But you, my dear Sansa, you made me hope again.” Sansa’s eyes filled with tears. “Spending time with you made me realise that the world was not as dark a place as I thought. You are good and honest, Sansa. And most important of all, you made me love again.”

Sansa dried the tears running down her cheeks. “I meant every word I wrote.”

“I know,” Tyrion nodded. “Are you sure about this? It is not too late to change your mind,” he told her softly.

Sansa shook her head. “I have never been so sure about anything in my entire life.”

“Amazing,” Tyrion whispered, staring at her in awe. “You are amazing.”

“I’m really not,” she told him with a smile. “Will you ask me now?”

“Yes, of course,” Tyrion said, straitening his back. “Sansa, will you marry me?”

“Yes,” Sansa choked up.

She reached for Tyrion’s hand and drew him near as he rested the other one against her cheek softly. Sansa closed her eyes slowly and brushed her lips against his. As Tyrion kissed her back, his hand stroking her cheek, Sansa thought to herself that she was looking forward to starting their life together.

 

**THE END**


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